Even Tomorrow
by Adarian
Summary: Sequel to "Away From Him": Loghain is called back to Ferelden to investigate the birth of the child of Alistair and Anora. Reunited with Tabris, he learns the secret to the apparent miracle and finds himself having to make a choice. Written for a kink-meme request.


Loghain pulled his cloak further around him as the carriage pulled forward. It seemed strange that in such a short time he would no longer be used to the Ferelden winters. Orlais was warmer, cities mere paces from each other. The country he loved had been shown to him, mile by mile, covered in the first snow of the season.

Perhaps he was simply becoming an old man, he smirked to himself. After all, he was a grandfather now. Perhaps his body was catching up with him.

The miracle child. The first Theirin born in decades. The announcement had spread across Thedas as a clear message. Ferelden was back in control of its fate. It was more than Loghain could have wished for, but this trip was not a grandfather coming to meet his granddaughter, despite the appearance of it. His priority now was to an irate Orleasian Commander who demanded answers of him. How could a former Warden conceive a child? Did the child have the taint? Was the child even his? And what devilry had occurred if it was?

And who better to find out than Loghain?

Damn if he cared. He had been part of that condemned ritual to save his life. If the man had done his duty, did it matter the cost?

As they neared the gates of Denerim, he took a deep breath. He had not been back here since that wretched night. He thought of her, such a small thing baring her teeth at a dragon. He had meant to take the final blow, just in case, but she had rushed in, an animalistic scream as her blade sliced into the creature's heart. The memory of picking her up, carrying her to a medic, blended into that foul pit in Amaranthine, into the bloodied snow when he found her...

He shook his head. He needed to keep his wits about him. He was merely sentimental about his last weeks in Ferelden, reliving it all in this last moment of solitude.

The carriage pulled around the back of the palace and Loghain exited, tossing a few extra silvers for the driver. He pulled his pack over his shoulder and trudged through the snow towards the servant's entrance.

As he walked into the kitchens, the servants went absolutely silent. He kept his head down, knowing several angry elves were staring intently at him. He did not blame him. He had held a grudge for less worthy reasons.

He walked up the stairs into the main section of the castle, following a familiar path to his old bedroom. Not the one he held as regent, but the one reserved for his visits to Maric. Despite the growing dark of evening, he knew these steps well. He found a candle waiting for him and he lit it as he unpacked his bags. It was a small room, just a bed in the corner, a small mirror and dresser. He washed in the basin left for him, rubbing his face in the towel to warm it slightly.

"Are you turning in before even saying hello?"

He turned, smiling slightly as Anora walked into his room, crossing her arms.

"I did not want to wake you," he said, "I imagine the baby is keeping you up most the of the night as it is. You do not need your old father barging in."

"I invited you," she reminded, shaking her head, "She's asleep, I'll introduce you to her in the morning. Oh daddy, I'm so happy you're here."

"I am too," he admitted, "You should go rest, girl."

"Alright," she yawned, "I am rather tired. She's a fussy little thing right now and we'll be having the reception tomorrow so-"

"Reception?" He groaned.

"Oh just a little thing. Some of the nobles have gathered, doting presents and all that. Some believe it's bad luck to celebrate a birth until the third month. But you know that. Mamma told me once you refused to call me by name until then. She said you called me dumpling."

He chuckled, "It was one of my less rational moments. Now go on then. It has been a long trip from Gwarin. Let me get some rest."

Anora turned to go and said, "Good night, father."

He stood smiling quietly as he closed the door behind her. He remembered holding her in his arms for the first time, looking up at Celie in astonishment. He had never seen anything so beautiful, so small and perfect. Now she was all grown...oh, she had been grown since she was a teenager. And for the Maker's sake, she had been a queen for nearly a decade now. But for him, she still was that small bundle in his arms.

He laid in the bed, pulling the sheets around him as he tried to close his eyes. He could not get the chill out of his bones.

OoOoOoOo

Tabris stood in front of the mirror, attempting to adjust her hair as it curled around her ears. She flattened out the green dress as best she could, but she felt still an imposter in the gown. She took a deep breath, adjusting the bodice before stepping back. She frowned, but was distracted as she heard a knock at the door.

She opened it, seeing Alistair stand at the other side.

"I thought I'd walk you down to the reception," he offered shyly, "Anora will be coming down a bit later. It would give us a chance to talk."

Tabris smiled politely, "Do I look alright?"

He smiled and she felt self-conscious as she saw his eyes scan down her body.

"You look lovely," he said, "You're not going to tell me how handsome I am?"

Fatherhood had suited the man. He smiled more than she had seen in years, his hair growing thicker and redder. He had even gained a little paunch that she thought suited him quite nicely.

"Your ego is already too inflated," she concluded.

He laughed, offering his arm. She took it, closing the door as they left the room. It wasn't hard then to remember how it felt to love him. It still lingered, sometimes arising when he laughed, when the twinkle of his eyes caught her breath. She would always love him, but that love was changing and growing into something softer, kinder. This was better. This was easier.

"Is this still alright for you?" he asked.

"I still think it's a terrible idea to make me a godmother," she replied.

"Who else are we going to pick? Neither of us have any siblings and...you're my friend. And I've seen you fight. There's no one out there more qualified to keep my daughter safe."

"They're going to think you're favouring the Wardens again," she warned.

He rolled his eyes, "Everything I do favours them, don't you know? And the elves too. There's still some conspiracy theory you've had and raised my bastard in the alienage and that the elves will take over the kingdom."

They both realized the joke had gone too far and they stood on the staircase, looking at each other.

"I can walk the rest of the way myself," she said calmly, "I wouldn't want them to get any more ideas."

"Aria," he called out as she left his side, "Wait, I'm sorry. It's just so..."

"I want to be your friend," she said finally, stopping on the stairs, "But I can't joke about...about us yet. This is going to take time. So please...just give me some space."

He nodded and she left, entering the great hall on her own. She spotted Shianni and walked over to her cousin, kissing her on the cheek.

"Lovely party," Tabris joked.

"Oh yes, I love awkward human noble season," Shianni agreed, "It's always fun to see them step over themselves trying not to offend me but also trying to marry into my territory. Politics is so amusing."

"You know you love it," she teased.

"Well, I do have to admit, I have not been the biggest topic of conversation today. I'm rather put out."

"Let me guess. The kid's not Alistair's. Or is secretly a demon. Or Orleasian."

"You're closer on that last one," she chuckled and nodded towards a corner of the room, "We have a special visitor from that country, it seems."

Tabris looked over, her breath catching slightly as she saw him. Her first instinct was to run. Shianni's hand went over her arm.

"Cousin, you've gone pale as a ghost," she said kindly, "Are you well? Here, let me get you something to drink. You go sit down."

"I'm fine," Tabris replied, "Don't worry yourself. I just need to catch my breath."

"Of all the men to swoon over, you picked a doozy," Shianni commented, still helping her to a lounge on the side of the room.

Tabris chuckled, "Hardly. I just have been feeling under the weather, that's all."

"Aria," Shianni rolled her eyes, "I have known you your entire life. Stop fussing and tell me everything."

Tabris insisted, "It's nothing."

Shianni began to protest, but was interrupted as the crowd moved to the side and the royal couple entered. Alistair kept his arm around Anora, the small infant in her arms. Tabris felt a knot come into her throat as Alistair began a toast.

"Friends, family, I am glad to have you here on this special day as I announce our heir to the throne. I present to you, our daughter, Rowan."

A polite clap went through the audience and Tabris turned, seeing Loghain watching the performance. She thought she saw his hands tremble as he put them together. She looked away and back towards the couple.

"Please, enjoy the refreshments. My beautiful wife and I will stay until the baby starts crying again."

The crowd dispersed again and Tabris found herself caught in a side hug as Anora greeted her.

"There you are," she smiled, "I've been looking for you. One little bolt of sanity in all these fussing nobles. Present company excluded. Would you mind terribly holding her for a second? I need a drink."

"Me too," Shianni chimed in, "I'll get you one, cousin."

Anora gently lowered Rowan into Tabris' arms as the child blinked open her eyes. As the two women left, she stroked her cheek, feeling a tear creep down her cheek. She was a beautiful baby. Strawberry blonde hair, big blue eyes. She smiled sadly. So stupid to be jealous, to be angry at such a little thing.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?"

Tabris looked up, seeing Loghain sitting down beside her. She offered the child to him, but he waved her away.

"I have never been good at holding babies," he replied, "She looks comfortable with you."

Rowan gurgled slightly and Tabris held her closer to her.

"You have been well?" She asked softly.

"As well as can be expected."

There was a quiet moment and he stood, leaving her with the child. The women returned, handing a glass of wine over to her as she gave Rowan back. She did not speak further, but drank.

oOoOoOo

Tabris returned to her room, yawning slightly. Such social gatherings often wore her out. A good night's rest and she would return to Amaranthine, to her home. She was debating whether or not to see her father before she went. It would not make things easier, but it felt wrong to ignore him.

When she opened the door, she saw Loghain sitting in a chair, drinking, a near empty bottle resting near his feet.

"Warden," he greeted with a grunt, "Care to join me?"

She smiled sadly, closing the door behind her. She took the glass from him, drinking the whiskey with a slight grimace.

"They named her Rowan," Loghain laughed darkly, "Oh Maker..."

Tabris sat on the bed, waiting as Loghain lowered his head into his hands and sighed.

"We're not so different, you and I," he said quietly, "We both let a love go because it was the right thing. When Cailian died, the last of her was gone. It's hard for me to accept Alistair. I see so much of Maric in him, but none of her. Then I see this child, this beautiful child. My granddaughter. But she's not there, there's none of the woman I loved in her. And they named her Rowan, as if to taunt me. As if to haunt me."

"What was she like?" Tabris asked.

"Brave," Loghain replied, "Braver than me, certainly. She was determined and strong. An amazing warrior. Ferelden has never lacked fierce queens. She was...better than I deserved. Better than Maric deserved too, it seems, but...I'm not sure if I would have thought any man was good for her. It's easy to sanctify the dead. I'm sure she was a mere mortal too."

She wanted to touch his arm, but hesitated in that quiet moment.

"I wrote to you twice," he said, lifting his head up to face her, "You never wrote back to me."

"You only wrote to me once," she corrected, "It was short, just said that you had arrived in Orlais, that the place stank, but you thought you could handle it."

"Right, right there was only one," he smirked, taking the glass back from her and filling it, "I never sent the second one to you. It had been particularly sentimental."

He handed her back the glass after taking a drink from it. She held it as he continued, "I was drunk. I was thinking about finding you in the snow. I was thinking about that night. It...meant more to me than I had first suspected."

"Why have you come back?" She asked quietly.

He smirked, "Nothing foolish or romantic, I promise you. The Wardens sent me to investigate my own granddaughter. The miracle child."

"So you've figured it out then," she replied, looking away from him.

His face softened as he looked at her, "Alistair no longer carries the Taint. I couldn't sense it in him, or the child. He's so damn healthy looking. So what happened? What deal with demons did we make this time?"

Tabris drank from her glass and said quietly, "I found Morrigan. We spoke only a little but she gave me...well...it was the formula for a potion. It has to be drunk over a period of two weeks, while the blood is replaced. But...it's the cure for the Taint, to no longer be a Warden."

"And you gave it to him?"

"I felt it was my duty."

"And you didn't take it yourself?"

She admitted, "I go back and forth on it. I don't know if...I deserve it. It feels selfish, it feels small and petty. If Wardens could just leave whenever they wanted...Loghain, what would you do?"

He sighed, touching her hand gently before taking the glass from her, "I am an old man. My death in thirty years? It is what I expected, perhaps even generous. Perhaps I will go anyway before the Calling takes me. But you...you are what, twenty-three at the most? You could have a long life, a good life. You have saved Ferelden a half dozen times now. You ended the Blight; you gave the country an heir. Do you not think you deserve a reprieve?"

She wiped away a few tears, a sob building in her chest. Loghain put down the glass and moved to the bed, holding her from the side as she cried into his shoulder.

She laughed sadly, "I swear, I only seem to cry around you."

"You trust me," he said gently, "That's not a bad thing. Misguided, perhaps. You could have chosen a better man."

"That night," she murmured, "that night meant everything to me. I thought about you. I wanted to write, but what would I say? I didn't think I'd ever see you again. And what does it matter now? You'll go back to Orlais and have to report this. Things are on the cusp of massive change. Even if we wanted to, there is no chance for a normal life for either of us soon."

She looked up at him, her heart pounding as his hands cupped her face. Before he kissed her, he murmured, "There is still some time."

She threw herself into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck as they fell into the bed together. Their kisses grew desperate as they fumbled with their clothes, pushing them off into a pile on the floor. She wrapped her legs around him, their naked bodies pressing together as their lips met for a hungry kiss. He held her to him as he pushed inside of her and she sighed deeply.

Her hands ran into his hair, pressing their foreheads against each other as he moved. She groaned as his hand grabbed at her ass, pushing her closer towards him. Between their bodies rubbing together, between his thrusts, she felt herself coming closer and closer. He groaned, his other hand grabbing the back of her head and pulling her for a deep kiss. She moaned into his mouth as she came, shaking around him as she held onto his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin.

He went harder, thrusting more furiously as she held onto him, the waves still pleasurably pulsing through her body. He gripped into the bed, as he moaned, closing his eyes as he pushed into her, his seed spurting into her body. He opened his eyes and smiled awkwardly as they kissed again.

"I believe we were having a serious conversation before you lured me into bed," she teased lightly, pleasantly surprised when he chuckled.

He stroked the side of her face as he moved beside her, holding her to him.

"You should take the potion," he murmured, "There's plenty of other Wardens. There's only one you."

"Loghain," she said quietly.

"No, listen," he said, lying on his side to face her, "You've been given another chance. Who knows what will happen when the truth comes out. We both know that tensions are already brewing between our countries-"

"Did you just refer to Orlais as your country?"

"Hush. Listen to me. You...you have a chance to live. Do you remember that night before we marched on Denerim? Do you remember you begging me for my own life? I was ready to die and you pleaded with me to live. Listen to me as I listened to you."

She flipped on her side as his hand cupped her face.

"What do you want?" He asked gently, "Not what they want for you. Ask what you want for yourself."

She bowed her head, "I want to have a home. I want children. I want to see my father more than once a year. I want to cook in my own kitchen and never have to put on armour again in my life. I want to just be...me. I'm so, so tired of being the Hero of Ferelden. I'm tired of all of it."

"You were right," she murmured, looking up at him with tears in her eyes, "It never got better. I need...I need..."

She kissed him, and he held her to him, letting her rest her head under his chin.

"I have a cabin," he said quietly, "Deep in the Frostback Mountains. There was a little garden there once. There's a little village nearby. I remember there was a little pond, it was so nice to read by it, to go fishing."

She pulled back and looked up at him, "What are you saying?"

Loghain grumbled, "Damn it, do I need to spell it out for you?"

She smiled sadly, "Probably."

"I'm saying, you can start over...we can start over. I know you deserve a younger man, a fresher man, but if you want-"

"Yes," she whispered.

A quiet smile crept across his face, "Okay."

She laughed, covering her mouth, "Sorry, this is all...oh Maker, I'm going to run away...with you? I'm sorry, I just..."

She broke out into laughter further and Loghain sat up, rolling his eyes.

"Still a yes?" he asked grumpily.

She nodded, trying not to laugh.

He murmured, "Good."


End file.
